


Stare into the Light

by autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Faeries - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingRayne/pseuds/autoeuphoric
Summary: The dude looks older than Yuri, but that means nothing here. He’s also handsome, with a strong jaw and big warm eyes, but that also means nothing here. But there is also a heaviness to him, a tilt of gnawing gravity. He is no larger than anyone here, no brighter, but Yuri has spent enough time around magic to know how it feels. To know how power tastes.(Yuri attends a party thrown by the Bright Court on the king's invitation)





	Stare into the Light

**Author's Note:**

> this is very short, but i like it a lot.

The Bright Court makes Yuri’s Plisetsky’s head hurt. 

He knows the Folk like their motifs, okay? They like their riddles and their games and their extended metaphors. They like forcing the world to resemble themselves, for the outside to reflect the inside. But seriously, is this much glitter really necessary? 

The invitation had called it a ball, but Yuri’s pretty sure that if you have flashing lights and people dancing on tables it just becomes a party. Or a rave. But you don’t argue semantics with faeries. And you don’t refuse invitations. Despite what some shitheads at court might say, Yuri is neither stupid nor suicidal. 

A puca takes his invitation at the door, wriggling long rabbit ears. “Welcome, my lord,” it says with a bow and a nasty smile. Nobody else has an invitation, Yuri notices. This is probably just a joke. The super-funny kind where the punchline is someone tries to kill him. He narrowly avoids telling the puca to go fuck itself, the memory of Mila shouting _mind your manners_ activating his self-preservation. She had offered to come with him tonight, but he doesn’t need a fucking escort. 

Yuri pushes through the crush of the crowd to the bar, because fuck if he’s weathering this sober. He orders a rum and coke because it only has two ingredients and he can watch the bartender pour them. She’s pretty in that flat, flawless way that says it’s glamour and not even a very good one. 

“You got I.D.?” she asks. 

Yuri says, “Is that a fucking joke?” 

Carding in a club full of immortals is a great way to waste time and piss people off. Yuri doesn’t have an ID, and even if he did he has no idea what it would say. He could be anywhere between fifteen and a century--it’s easy to lose count. 

“Hey there, kitty,” says a voice from over his shoulder. “You lost?” 

It’s no louder than anything else in here, but somehow Yuri can hear it clear through all the other noise, the rich timbre of it, the intent, like it’s meant just for him. He pastes on his most disdainful brush-off face. He isn’t looking to make friends and he definitely would never fuck a Seelie. Who knows what he’d catch?

“Zero points for timing,” he says. “Negative ten for material.” 

The dude looks older than Yuri, but that means nothing here. He’s also handsome, with a strong jaw and big warm eyes, but that also means nothing here. But there is also a heaviness to him, a tilt of gnawing gravity. He is no larger than anyone here, no brighter, but Yuri has spent enough time around magic to know how it feels. To know how power tastes. 

He swallows the ‘fuck off, douchecanoe’ he was going to tag onto the end there. Instead he just scowls. 

“Drink?” The guy shoots a finger gun at the bartender, who immediately snaps into action. No ID for this dude, apparently. She makes two cosmos and slides orange slices onto the rim. 

Yuri downs half of his. The vodka burns but he doesn’t wince. The guy is watching with one eyebrow cocked, like he expected Yuri to try to weasel out of drinking it. Humans aren’t supposed to accept drinks from fae, but that ship has fucking sailed. One of his earliest memories is of taking a bright, luscious cherry from the fingers of a faerie woman. He’d nearly choked to death on the stone. She’d laughed the whole time. 

“What’s your name?” the guy asks. 

Yuri smirks around his straw. “Yurio.” No one knows his true Name, and no one ever will. They may have taken his mortality, his family, and his freedom, but they will never have that. 

“Want to dance?” The faerie leans in close and Yuri breathes in hot earth and honeysuckle, the sun on green leaves, a perfect blue sky. Shit. 

“ _No_ ,” he blurts, steeling himself against the power prickling over his skin, enticing and deliciously warm. 

“Honest, huh?” The faerie smiles. “I like that. They say Nikiforov’s pet human can lie, but he doesn’t. That’s why I invited you here tonight.” 

A chill radiates down Yuri’s spine and anchors in his guts. “You--you’re--.” 

The lord of the Bright Court grins. “I’m the king,” he says with a wink. “Call me JJ.”

**Author's Note:**

> more faerie AU snippets to come.


End file.
